Knock, Knock

By Aaron D Phillips

Aidan Crane is fifteen years old, and one of Jehovah's Witnesses. 

Life can be pretty tough in the religion. Not only has he got to knock on strangers doors to preach, he also has to deal with school bullies, a controlling religion and an ever-growing array of spots on his face.

A life-changing decision soon takes Aidan through a whirlwind of conflict; family breakup; romance, and tragedy that will change the course of his life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aaron D Phillips
• Release date: Sep 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393739258

Book preview

Chapter One

‘Do you remember what you’re going to say?’

I ignored the voice stood behind me and counted the seconds that had passed since I knocked the door. Three, four, five...

‘I don’t think anyone is in; think I’ll just put the magazines through the door’ I said out loud.

‘Hold on, I think someone is walking down the hall’ said the man behind me.

I looked through the misted glass and saw a figure walking towards the front door. The bottom fell out of my stomach and my tongue went completely dry. I could feel beads of sweat running down from my temples as the door handle creaked downwards and the door swung open. I pretended to be as cool as ice.

‘Hiya. Just wondered if I can leave these magazines with you?’

James Saunter, who was stood in the hallway barely had time to say anything before I thrusted the magazines in to his hand and took off back down the garden path.

‘Cheers’ said James, shutting the door with a confused look on his face.

I walked around the corner to make sure I was out of sight and stood next to a large oak tree, camouflaging myself under the branches.

Pete Cutler caught up with me and took out a notepad.

‘You probably had time to have a bit of a chat with that young man. I got the feeling he was interested in what you were about to say’.

Pete was an elder in my local congregation. I’m Aidan Crane, and I’m one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. It’s been part of my life since I was eight years old. Now I’m fifteen, skinny, and have red spots appearing on my face at a rate faster than I could walk out of James Saunter’s garden.

‘I’m not sure; he didn’t seem that interested’.

‘Well, at least you placed some magazines with him. Maybe you can plan something for when you go back for a return visit’ said Pete, jotting down the house number.

My stomach dropped again. This is what happens if someone takes the magazines. We make a note of the house number and pop back in a weeks’ time to see if they’ve read them, or have any questions. I’m not going back to James’ house.

‘Yeah, ok’.

‘Maybe you can do the next house as well, Aidan?’

I looked down at my watch. 11:45. We normally finish about 12 so if I can hang this conversation out a little longer then maybe I can get away with not doing another door.

‘Actually, I’m just thinking about what I could say to that guy on the return visit – do you have any suggestions?’

Pete’s face lit up as he pulled a bible out of his bag. I spotted a few other kids from school approaching on their bikes, so pushed myself further against the tree and pulled the hood up from my jacket. I could see the kids staring at Pete and laughing so I turned the other way and bent down to tie my shoelace.

‘Knock, knock’ shouted the first kid at Pete.

‘Fuck off!’ shouted the one behind, as they all erupted in to laughter.

I stayed down until the laughter trailed off around the corner. Pete seemed oblivious to what had just happened.

‘You could mention this scripture in Revelation, about the time of the end’.

My mind switched off as Pete started to reel off biblical prophecy. All I could think about was what James was going to say to everyone in school on Monday morning. I started to feel sick at the thought of it.

‘Is it ok if we go now? I’m not feeling too well’.

Pete closed his bible and let out a tut that he thought I wouldn’t be able to hear.

‘Ok, but I want to stop off and drop some magazines to someone on the way to dropping you back, if you don’t mind?’

I nodded. At least I’ll have the car to hide the fact I was wearing a suit.

‘How are you getting on at school at the moment?’

‘It’s not too bad, thanks’.

I lied. It was awful. Most days I would receive verbal abuse from someone in school for being a Jehovah’s Witness. I wasn’t going to say that to Pete though. He was nice enough, but old. He wouldn’t understand what it’s like for me.

‘Do you remember what the brother said at the meeting last Sunday about giving a good witness in schools?’

I had an urge to open the door of the car and roll out. Yes, we were now on the main road, but as Pete rarely put the car in fourth gear, we weren't going very fast. I remember the talk. It was all about chatting to school mates about the religion and trying to get them to take magazines or a leaflet. I couldn’t imagine the amount of abuse I would get if I attempted it. Sod that.

‘Yeah, something about getting them to take the magazines at school’ I replied.

‘That’s right. All it takes is a smile to get a conversation started and before you know it, you could be conducting your own bible study’.

Seriously, what century does he live in? I smiled as Pete pulled the car down a side road and went to drop magazines in to the house on the corner. It felt like he was there an eternity, but I was grateful that I wasn’t on a street corner for everyone to see.

Pete got back in the car and seemed cheerful.

‘I think he may be interested in starting a study soon. Would you fancy coming along with me if he does?’

A bible study is what Jehovah’s Witnesses offer people that show an interest in the religion. It goes on for months and is bloody boring. I really didn’t fancy sitting through that for weeks on end.

‘Yeah, I can do’.

‘Great. Let’s get you home for lunch’.

My home is in the small town of Smallbrook, in the county of Somerset. Nothing really goes on here, apart from a carnival every year, which is cool, and the fair comes in to the market place. That’s normally a good place to find some girls. I live with my mum, step-dad Charlie, and younger brother Jon, in a two-bed terrace. My dad lives in Smallbrook too, but he’s not a Jehovah’s Witness. Myself and Jon go and see him on the weekends, but most of our time with him is spent in the pub.

‘Did you place any magazines this morning?’

Mum was making tomato soup. A tradition every Saturday lunchtime, and it smelt lush.

‘Yeah, just one lot’.

Mum smiled and gave me a hug.

‘That’s great. Do you know what you’re going to say when you go back?’

I had no intention of going back.

‘Not yet, but I’ll figure it out’ I lied.

‘I can sit down and plan it with you, if you like?’ said mum.

‘No, it’s ok, I have an idea. What time is lunch ready?’

‘About five minutes. Can you go and get your brother?’

Jon is three years younger than me and proper spiritual. He always likes to get one over on me by pretending to read the bible every day. I know he doesn't; he normally has a comic underneath, but mum and Charlie fall for it. He’s always got a smug look on his face, which I don’t get as he’s bloody ginger’.

‘Mum said lunch is ready in five’.

‘Yeah. How did you get on in the ministry this morning? Any interest?’

‘Got rid of one pair, but it was with a kid from school, so won’t be going back’.

‘You have to; he might be interested. I managed to place three lots this morning’ said Jon, smugly.

I had an urge to punch him in his ginger face but decided it wasn’t worth getting a wooden spoon wrapped around the backs of my legs.

‘You wait until you go to the big school next year; you’ll understand then’.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Jon.

I left it there and walked downstairs, happy in the knowledge that I’d sown the seed of terror in his mind.

‘Come on, lunch is ready and I need to say a prayer’.

My step-dad Charlie was stood at the end of the kitchen table, glasses on the end of his nose. I could tell he wanted to get it over with so he could go in the lounge and watch football focus. I tried to close my eyes and listen to what Charlie was saying, but I couldn’t help but open my eyes and look and my mum and Jon, eyes tightly shut and listening intently. I felt a pang of guilt; like god was watching me, so I shut them before the prayer finished.

‘Amen’.

‘Aidan said he wasn’t going to go back to where he placed magazines this morning’.

I flung my leg forward to kick him, but made contact with the leg of the table instead.

‘Oww, shi...’

‘Aidan was going to swear’ said Jon.

‘Shut up you idiot’.

‘That’s enough you two, and stop telling tales Jon’ said mum.

Charlie narrowed his eyes across the table at me.

‘I hope you weren’t going to swear Aidan. You do know that Jehovah can hear everything you say, and knows what you are thinking about, don’t you?’

‘Yes, sorry. I was just annoyed at Jon’.

‘That’s fine, but you know what the scripture says about wrongdoers not inheriting the earth’.

I nodded and looked at Jon, who had returned to eating his dinner, with that same smug look on his face. Jehovah’s Witnesses believe that Armageddon is happening soon. Basically, everyone that hasn’t converted to be a witness will be killed, and the rest of us will survive when the earth is turned in to a paradise. Everyone will live forever and be eternally young. It’s the reason we go out and preach; to save people. I’ll be honest; it scares the shit out of me. We get told that Armageddon will happen at any moment and that we need to be ready. It’s why we get told to tell everyone we can about the hope for the future if they convert. It’s easier said than done though, as Charlie doesn't have to go to my school every day.

‘Would it help if I asked Paul to come over one evening and help you plan for the return visit to your schoolmate?’ said mum.

My stomach dropped. I just wanted to forget about James Saunter answering the door. I wish he never answered the bloody door. The last thing I want is Paul Cutler coming over. He’s Pete’s son and a few years older than me. He’s high up in the congregation; all the girls fancy him, and he never seems to do anything wrong. I don’t fancy getting a pep talk.

‘No, I’ll be ok thanks’.

‘I think that’s a good idea. I’ll have a word with Pete at the meeting tomorrow night’ said Charlie.

I finished my dinner and went up to my bedroom. I was feeling sick at the prospect of school tomorrow, and had all sorts of scenario’s running through my head of what might happen. Maybe I’ll tell mum I’m sick. At least that will delay things a while.

‘How’s your foot?’

Jon was in the doorway.

‘Fine. No thanks to you’.

‘You shouldn’t have tried to kick me then’.

‘You shouldn’t have tried to shit-stir then’.

‘I’m telling mum you just swore again’.

I tried to grab him, but he ran down the stairs before I could catch him. I decided to follow and plead my innocence.

‘Mum, Aidan swore again’.

Luckily, Charlie had popped out.

Mum threw down her bible and shot a look at Jon.

‘Will you stop telling tales? I’m trying to study here, now go back your rooms, both of you’.

Now it was my turn to look smug.

Chapter Two

My dad isn’t a Jehovah’s Witness. He’s called Dave. He lives on his own, about a ten minute walk from our house. It’s pretty cool as he still celebrates Christmas and birthdays, so I still get presents twice a year. Charlie and mum give us presents on their wedding anniversary, but it’s not the same; I kind of like the feeling of being made special, even though I feel guilty about celebrating it. When Dad’s not working for a vehicle parts delivery company, he spends a lot of time at the Smallbrook social club. It always smells of stale beer, and the carpets are a dirty green colour, but they sometimes have cool parties in there, so it’s not so bad. Myself and Jon go with him every Sunday lunchtime; straight after Sunday worship at the Kingdom Hall – our version of the church. I always make sure I change out of my suit, just in case anyone saw me.

‘Hey dad!’

Jon ran over and hugged dad, who awkwardly hugged him back. Dad’s not very good at giving affection.

‘That’s enough Jon. Hi Aidan’ said dad, outstretching his hand for me to shake.

I shake it